


Ice Cream

by ElodieTheFangirl



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Season 1, Sweet, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 05:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12834504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElodieTheFangirl/pseuds/ElodieTheFangirl
Summary: John finds a way to appreciate the heatwave.





	Ice Cream

Hot. It was the only word on his mind at this moment. A heatwave had struck London and left it paralyzed for over a week. John was overworked because of all the seniors who passed out because of the heat.

 

Yet, everytime he'd come back home, he'd found Sherlock exactly where he left him. The intense heat seemed to have zero impact on the detective who looked as apathetic as usual. After saying hello to his silent roommate, John headed toward the fridge. He did his best to avoid looking at the lungs in a jar of formol on the top shelf. He opened his mouth to prostest the transformation of their flat into a research lab, but closed it immédiatly. What would be the point? He quickly shut down the voice in his head screaming that Sherlock was slowly taking over his mind. After all, if he wanted to trust Sherlock blindly, it was his problem.

 

“Behind the kidneys.”

 

John thought he must have misheard.

 

“I'm sorry?”

 

“The passion fruit ice cream is right behind the frozen kidneys. Second shelf.”

 

John stared at the consulting detective for a few seconds. He clearly remembered finishing the ice cream the previous day. Did Sherlock went out to buy more? With his favorite flavour? Pretty unlikely, but considereing the fact that Mrs. Hudson was out for the week, it was the only solution?

 

Brushing off these thoughts, the doctor grabbed the pint of ice cream andt stole a spoon stuck between two test tubes. He sat on the couch beside the detective and savour the delicious dessert. Ice cream was his guilty pleasure and the fact that Sherlock remembered that really touched him.

The dark-haired man was looking at him with a small amused smile. Slowly, with his usual grace, he stood up and kneeled in front of John. The blond threw him an interrogative glance. He was about to ask him what he was doing when the detective placed his lips at corner of John's.

 

It was barely a kiss, just a brush, a gentle touch. And before John could comprehend what was happening, Sherlock stepped back with a straight face.

 

“You had ice cream on your face.” the detective simply said.

 

* * *

 

 

And that night, as he fell asleep, John made a wish. The wish that this heatwave would never end.

 


End file.
